If you're wondering how we're coping, yesterday my wife and I joked that Olaf has now been promoted to the position of "dog", a title he was previously barred from holding under the former administration.
We had an Olaf-like shepherd mix who was the annoying little bro to a ornery hound mix. When the hound left this plane of existence unexpectedly, the shepherd--not smart at all but very feeling-- stepped up and became a full-fledged dog, not just the affectionately-named “dumbdog.” I have full confidence Olaf will do the same, or at least he’ll give it his best before accidentally eating the couch.
He really has settled in quite a bit from the furry tornado he was when we got him. He will never be a replacement for Holly, but he's damned good at being his own thing.
One day when I picked up said shepherd from daycare, his “report card” said “He means well and he tries hard” - a statement I will remember the rest of my days, and one which I suspect applies to our dear Olaf as well.
I said to my wife about a year ago that Olaf "means well but doesn't know better" and that Holly "knows better but doesn't mean well"
The difference between a border collie (#1 on the breed intelligence rankings) and a corgi (#11) isn't cognition, it's compliance. They know what you're asking, they'll just decide for themselves if they want to do it.
This morning, Olaf started to trot into our bedroom (which was Holly's exclusive domain), but stopped in his tracks at the door and walked away. I claim Holly was guarding the door.
so, after she passed, we learned that our 30 lb dachshund/beagle Ginger kept 130 lb Hank from ever coming upstairs to the bedrooms. We just thought he didn't want to deal with stairs and was happy to stay downstairs and own the main level bc he never expressed interest around us. Nope. Once she passed, about a week later, he started creeping his head around the staircase and finally one day waited for permission to come upstairs. We're positive she was still guarding the staircase and was absolutely FURIOUS with us. He then came upstairs and go on the beds all the dang time. And was so happy.
They’ve done pretty well, all things considered; sad, but coping in a healthy way. I think the toughest part for them has been that they don’t remember ever seeing *me* this sad.
Squirrel Doggy is three months younger than Holly, and through your writing, I've always thought they were kindred spirits. He can be an irascible animal (my kids call him "Walter," as in Matthau in "Grumpy Old Men"), but he's incredibly loyal, impossibly regal at times, and ultimately an affectionate source of joy to our family. With luck, our little terrier will be with us for about four more years, but I'm already dreading the end.
I hope your family -- and especially the kids -- are doing okay through this difficult loss and holding on to the many hilarious memories Holly created for y'all.
Take care,
DG
P.S.: You had no glasses in 2010 because you had no need for glasses before you became Calvin's Dad.
When we add a dog to our lives, it is understood, between us and the dog, that we will do what is right for them from the start to the finish. You and your wife did that. I love Holly and will miss her. My heart goes out to you.
Lighthearted comment: my wife, who is smarter than me and not on twitter, has only ever known your writing/newsletter/recipes as coming from "corgi newsletter guy"--she's never remembered, or (sorry) likely cared to remember YOUR name, but she has always somehow remembered that the guy who provided this weekend's cocktail recipe has a corgi named holly.
More serious comment: having gone through this with an old cat almost exactly a year ago, I came to terms with it by considering that by coming into our lives at such a young age, following us from apartment to apartment and city to city and not leaving until we had settled and put down roots they went from being the creature that made wherever we were "home" to being the creature that got us home. And once they knew we were good and settled, their work was done.
Now it's Olaf's turn to-aaaaaaaaaaand he's broken a lamp.
I am gutted and heartbroken for all of you and also, I think, all of us, as I mourn a dog I've never met. We're never ready to say good-bye, and no matter how much time we have it's never enough. I'm so sorry.
The picture of Holly next to the horse might be the hardest I've ever laughed at a picture of a dog. I don't have an easy way to work that into my condolences, but I wanted it to be said. It's among the greatest photos I've ever seen.
All the hugs, Scott. I'm sure many of us have walked this road before, I found myself nodding along with all the sentiments and realizations you put to words. We said goodbye to Boo well over a decade ago, but through multiple moves her photo remains right where it belongs, looking to the kitchen, but not quite in the kitchen.
Holly was one of those dogs that made you jealous - envying both the family that got to enjoy her company every day and also of being the spoiled dog that has little to do with their day besides snark away at the guy trying to come up with witty content for a blog. You did good, Holly. We'll all miss you.
Scott, thank you for writing this, and thank you for sharing Holly with us for so many years. She was a great dog. My heart goes out to you and your family, and I’m glad y’all were able to spend one last great weekend with her.
I can’t tell you how much I needed this. My teenage-era dog had to be put down yesterday at 17. I brought his brother (passed 2 years ago) home from a neighbor who had just had puppies and he kept leaving the house he was at and ending up on our doorstep so eventually he became ours.
He was no snuggler but he was my dad’s shadow. I joked that I got them because I was leaving for college and they needed a boy in the house (don’t tell my sister) but he was the boss, even if he didn’t always seem like it.
I’m sorry for your loss of Holly and you’re right, I started following you from EDSBS and her horse face reaction. Loved her and love your writing.
If you're wondering how we're coping, yesterday my wife and I joked that Olaf has now been promoted to the position of "dog", a title he was previously barred from holding under the former administration.
We had an Olaf-like shepherd mix who was the annoying little bro to a ornery hound mix. When the hound left this plane of existence unexpectedly, the shepherd--not smart at all but very feeling-- stepped up and became a full-fledged dog, not just the affectionately-named “dumbdog.” I have full confidence Olaf will do the same, or at least he’ll give it his best before accidentally eating the couch.
He really has settled in quite a bit from the furry tornado he was when we got him. He will never be a replacement for Holly, but he's damned good at being his own thing.
One day when I picked up said shepherd from daycare, his “report card” said “He means well and he tries hard” - a statement I will remember the rest of my days, and one which I suspect applies to our dear Olaf as well.
actual lol
I said to my wife about a year ago that Olaf "means well but doesn't know better" and that Holly "knows better but doesn't mean well"
The difference between a border collie (#1 on the breed intelligence rankings) and a corgi (#11) isn't cognition, it's compliance. They know what you're asking, they'll just decide for themselves if they want to do it.
Oh, now you’re going to get haunted
This morning, Olaf started to trot into our bedroom (which was Holly's exclusive domain), but stopped in his tracks at the door and walked away. I claim Holly was guarding the door.
so, after she passed, we learned that our 30 lb dachshund/beagle Ginger kept 130 lb Hank from ever coming upstairs to the bedrooms. We just thought he didn't want to deal with stairs and was happy to stay downstairs and own the main level bc he never expressed interest around us. Nope. Once she passed, about a week later, he started creeping his head around the staircase and finally one day waited for permission to come upstairs. We're positive she was still guarding the staircase and was absolutely FURIOUS with us. He then came upstairs and go on the beds all the dang time. And was so happy.
I'll confess my first thought was how the kids were handling things, but I figured you'd save emotional terrorism posts for Mondays :)
They’ve done pretty well, all things considered; sad, but coping in a healthy way. I think the toughest part for them has been that they don’t remember ever seeing *me* this sad.
also I just now realized that I said "2010" several times even though it was 2011, we have previously established here that year-math is not my forte.
Squirrel Doggy is three months younger than Holly, and through your writing, I've always thought they were kindred spirits. He can be an irascible animal (my kids call him "Walter," as in Matthau in "Grumpy Old Men"), but he's incredibly loyal, impossibly regal at times, and ultimately an affectionate source of joy to our family. With luck, our little terrier will be with us for about four more years, but I'm already dreading the end.
I hope your family -- and especially the kids -- are doing okay through this difficult loss and holding on to the many hilarious memories Holly created for y'all.
Take care,
DG
P.S.: You had no glasses in 2010 because you had no need for glasses before you became Calvin's Dad.
I am so glad to read SD is still in business, keeping it real in these Squirrel Filled streets. I love the picture of him in my head from your posts
When we add a dog to our lives, it is understood, between us and the dog, that we will do what is right for them from the start to the finish. You and your wife did that. I love Holly and will miss her. My heart goes out to you.
Holly, you were perfect. Scott, thank you for sharing her with us.
Lighthearted comment: my wife, who is smarter than me and not on twitter, has only ever known your writing/newsletter/recipes as coming from "corgi newsletter guy"--she's never remembered, or (sorry) likely cared to remember YOUR name, but she has always somehow remembered that the guy who provided this weekend's cocktail recipe has a corgi named holly.
More serious comment: having gone through this with an old cat almost exactly a year ago, I came to terms with it by considering that by coming into our lives at such a young age, following us from apartment to apartment and city to city and not leaving until we had settled and put down roots they went from being the creature that made wherever we were "home" to being the creature that got us home. And once they knew we were good and settled, their work was done.
Now it's Olaf's turn to-aaaaaaaaaaand he's broken a lamp.
"it's just a pet, I won't get THAT attached."
Fast forward, and 20 years later I still miss my big goofy guy, and I still know exactly what his fur feels like.
My very best to you and your family, especially the kids, as you go through this. Give Olaf some extra ham for me.
Got dang, "I still know exactly what his fur feels like" is the perfect way to say how we miss our pets. And it's 1000% elephants true.
May her memory be a blessing.
I am gutted and heartbroken for all of you and also, I think, all of us, as I mourn a dog I've never met. We're never ready to say good-bye, and no matter how much time we have it's never enough. I'm so sorry.
The picture of Holly next to the horse might be the hardest I've ever laughed at a picture of a dog. I don't have an easy way to work that into my condolences, but I wanted it to be said. It's among the greatest photos I've ever seen.
All the hugs, Scott. I'm sure many of us have walked this road before, I found myself nodding along with all the sentiments and realizations you put to words. We said goodbye to Boo well over a decade ago, but through multiple moves her photo remains right where it belongs, looking to the kitchen, but not quite in the kitchen.
Holly was one of those dogs that made you jealous - envying both the family that got to enjoy her company every day and also of being the spoiled dog that has little to do with their day besides snark away at the guy trying to come up with witty content for a blog. You did good, Holly. We'll all miss you.
The beauty of a dog is the unconditional love they give. And the sass. The tragedy is that they don't have long to give it.
Holly was a wonderful dog. Thank you so very much for sharing her with all of us.
My dogs are definitely part of Holly's coaching tree.
I'm glad you and your family had that last weekend with her and I'm so sorry for your loss
Scott, thank you for writing this, and thank you for sharing Holly with us for so many years. She was a great dog. My heart goes out to you and your family, and I’m glad y’all were able to spend one last great weekend with her.
Holly was a great one. Glad I got to play a small role in her life teaching her some tricks. The way she did "shake" with that tiny leg omg.
Also why ya gotta roll out "Wildflowers" dangit I'm crying at work already.
Don't undersell your role here. She was smart enough to learn tricks from anybody, but you're the only one she ever chose to listen to.
RIP to a real one. Fare thee well, Holly.
I can’t tell you how much I needed this. My teenage-era dog had to be put down yesterday at 17. I brought his brother (passed 2 years ago) home from a neighbor who had just had puppies and he kept leaving the house he was at and ending up on our doorstep so eventually he became ours.
He was no snuggler but he was my dad’s shadow. I joked that I got them because I was leaving for college and they needed a boy in the house (don’t tell my sister) but he was the boss, even if he didn’t always seem like it.
I’m sorry for your loss of Holly and you’re right, I started following you from EDSBS and her horse face reaction. Loved her and love your writing.
Hope the kids handle it as best as possible!
I'm so sorry for your loss.